Only Forward
by TwilightRhapsodie
Summary: No going back now...I can’t look back. Too painful. There’s only forward, and onward, and...upward? Downward? Doesn’t matter. No choice. [Eventual MerDer. Picks up after 3.05 Oh the Guilt and goes AU, so spoilers up to there.]
1. Cry

Hello everyone! This is my first time trying my hand at a Grey's fic, though I have written some Gilmore Girls and Friends in the past. I'm worried that this may be too wordy/drawn out, or that the characters will be really off—I'm not sure I've quite captured them yet.

This picks up at the end of 3.05, "Oh, the Guilt", especially the Mer/Der moment in the elevator and the moment when Derek tells Addison he never wants to see her again. I apologize if any of the facts are wrong--please don't hesitate to let me know...my Tivo screwed up, so I couldn't rewatch the episode to double check before writing this.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with it yet, if anywhere, so let me know if you think this has anywhere to go. If you want more, there can definitely be more. If not, I'll leave it as a one-shot.

Anyway, I welcome any feedback, positive or constructively negative. Don't just be blindly mean, please—it's not productive. If there's a problem, I want to know how you think it should be fixed.

Enjoy, and please review! It only takes two seconds, and I appreciate it a whole lot!

* * *

_Do you see my guilt? Should I feel fright?_

_Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?_

_And if you want to talk about it once again,_

_On you I depend. I'll cry on your shoulder._

_You're a friend._

_-James Blunt, "Cry"_

Meredith tosses her stethoscope onto the hook inside her locker with just a little too much force. It's been a long day; too long. She grabs her purse, slams the door, and hurries out of the locker room and toward the exit before anyone can stop her from trying to go home. If Bailey finds her, it won't matter that her shift is officially over—the pit is always waiting for anyone who has a free hand, and much as she loves her job, she's just not sure she can do anymore tonight.

She's shaken. Shaken by the intensity of her first day back after her unfortunate episode of appendicitis, shaken by how hard it is to see Izzie claiming she's fine when she obviously isn't. Shaken by the fact that Derek only "said" okay when she told him she'd left Finn. She didn't know if she thought he would be happy or angry, but she certainly expected him to say something. Anything. The point is, though, that tonight she's unsteady, and she doesn't want her sutures to suffer from the way her hands are trembling.

She sees Cristina at the nurse's station and calls out, without stopping. "George or Izzie still here? I was going to see if they wanted a ride."

"Nah, I think they left a while ago," she replies, not looking up from the file she is studying. "Izzie drove herself home, I think, and George went…somewhere. I don't think he was going home, but I don't think he said where he was going."

"Well, whatever. Their loss. I'm just going to head home. If you see them, tell them I left!" This last sentence is called, as she is several yards past the nurse's station by now.

"Got it," says Cristina loudly but absently. Meredith isn't sure her friend even heard her. Tonight she takes the stairs to the lobby—she doesn't want to run into Derek again. As she gets closer to the door, she can see that it's pouring rain. "Great," she mutters, "just great. The one day I don't bring an umbrella."

She gets her keys out so they will be at the ready, and makes a run for it. By the time she has gone the twenty feet to her car, she is soaked to the skin. She opens her car door as quickly as she can, and gets inside. The first thing she does is turn on the heat; it may be summer, but that doesn't stop good old Seattle from deciding to be cold.

Meredith has always liked driving alone. There's just something about putting on her favorite music, sinking down into the seat, and getting into the rhythm of the road that always manages to soothe her. Twenty minutes later she is home, and she almost wishes she lived farther away. Almost, but not really, because then she would have to get up earlier in the morning.

As she walks up the path to her front door, she thinks maybe she sees someone sitting just outside the door, under the overhang so as to have some hope of staying dry. She blinks, shakes her head, convinced that she must be seeing things. But as she gets closer to the door, she realizes there is someone, and it's not just anyone. It's Derek.

"Derek?" she calls out as she climbs the steps. He does not respond. She thinks he's been crying, but she doesn't know for sure. She can't tell whether his face is tearstained or just soaked from the rain, like the rest of his body.

She finally reaches him, and she stares down at him, puts her hands on his shoulders. "Derek." Again, he says nothing. She shakes him. "Answer me. What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't," he says morosely. "I couldn't go back there…the trailer…it smelled like her. I didn't want to think of her, not after what she did. It made me sick just to picture her face. I…couldn't think of where else to go."

"Whose face?" Meredith is pretty sure he's been drinking—his sentences aren't exactly complete.

"No going back now; I can't look back. Too painful. There's only forward, and onward, and…upward? Downward? Doesn't matter. No choice."

"Derek," she says, almost sternly now. "Tell me what happened."

"Mark…wasn't just a one night stand. Two months. They lived together for two months. And she loves him."

'Serves you right,' she wants to scream. She wants to kick him for not responding to her when she poured out her heart to him, and then being selfish enough to think that she wants to hear his problems. But she can't. A little voice inside her tells her that he does love her, that he just needs time. And so she decides to take this situation for what it is, and deal with the rest tomorrow. "Come on," she says simply. "You can crash here."

"But we can't. We…I walked away." There he goes again, she thinks. Kicking her while she's down. But she does her best to ignore the twinge of anger she feels.

"Doesn't mean my couch is off limits," she concedes.

"I just thought…I thought you'd understand. Since we were friends…still are friends, I hope. I hope you understand."

"Well, I know what it's like not to want to go home." There is an undertone of bitterness in her voice, and he knows she hasn't forgiven him yet for all the pain he caused her. He knows he has a lot of ground to make up.

He gets up slowly, and they walk inside together. Absently, exhaustedly, they hang up their sopping wet coats on the hooks just inside the door.

"Don't mind me," he says. "Get some sleep."

"Seriously," she says. "Back at ya." She throws a blanket at him and heads upstairs without a goodnight.

As he looks after her, he hopes she wants to make things right, and hopes she knows he wants to, too. Everything takes time, he knows, but they're meant to be together. And the way he sees it, nothing can stop meant to be.

* * *

And that's it. Like I said, my first attempt at Grey's fic. Let me know what you think, please, by pressing that lovely little purple button just below. Thanks! 


	2. The First Cut Is the Deepest

First off, a disclaimer: I don't own anything. Clearly. Because if I had a job working at Grey's, I wouldn't have to go to school. Or do homework. And I would have finished this chapter much earlier.

Which brings me to my next point. I am aware that it took me a shamefully long time to produce this chapter, and I'm not quite sure why. Hopefully the next ones will be quicker. I promise I'll really try. Second semester should be a bit lighter, so that'll give me more time. Sorry again for the delay.

This is a pretty long chapter, which explores the feelings of both Meredith and Izzie, as well as (sort of) the parallel between the two. I don't know if Meredith's emotional journey is too quick, or if the basic action is realistic, especially with Derek (you'll see what I mean), so definitely comment on those things when you review. Which I would, of course, adore (a review, that is).

One last thing—I know this song already was used for an episode title, but I really liked these lyrics for this chapter. I'm always up for changing the chapter title/lyrics if someone has any other really good lyric suggestions—I don't know a whole lot of music, and this was the song that came to mind.

That's it. Enjoy!

* * *

_ I still want you by my side,  
Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried.  
And I'm sure gonna give it a try,  
And if you want, I'll try to love again.  
Baby, I'll try to love again, but I know  
The first cut is the deepest._

_-Sheryl Crow, "The First Cut Is the Deepest"  
_

Meredith hides at the top of the stairs, making sure she is out of Derek's sight. She watches as he takes off his sopping wet jeans, pullover, and Oxford. Not sexually—she can't let herself feel that way about him—but she wants to maintain a connection with him. There is something about knowing that he's hurting as she is that gives her a sense of camaraderie and makes her want to stay close to him.

She smiles to herself as he folds his clothes carefully and places them in a neat pile on the armchair next to the couch. He was always like that—unusually neat for a guy—when they were together. She remembers how out of place his neat piles of clothing looked in her room, sitting on the chair whose back and arms were always strewn with her dirty laundry.

He takes off his watch, sets it gingerly on the end table, clearly trying not to make a sound, and lies down on the couch, spreading the blanket over him and adjusting the pillow under his head.

When it looks as though he's asleep, Meredith forces herself to believe that there is no point in watching him anymore. But she's not ready to be alone yet. She sees light coming from under Izzie's door, so she knocks.

"Mer?" calls Izzie. "Come in." Meredith pushes the door open and goes to sit on Izzie's bed.

"Hey Iz," she says defeatedly. "How're you doing?"

"Fine," insists Izzie for the umpteenth time. Meredith isn't sure she can stand to hear that one more time.

"No, you're not. I'm your friend. I can tell when you're upset."

"Of course I'm upset, Meredith!" she said. "I'm broken! I lost the love of my life. I can't just recover in a second."

"I know. But if you're not fine, you don't have to pretend you are. We all know you're going through a hard time. We're here for you."

Izzie pauses, collecting her thoughts. "Pretending I'm fine is the only way to stop myself from wallowing in grief for too long. I've got to start taking steps toward normal, so that eventually things can be normal for real. I…"

"What?"

"I think I'm ready to go back to the hospital. I know I've said it over and over, and I know I spent that day out there doing nothing but think, but now I mean it. Tomorrow I'm going back."

"Seriously? That's great!"

"Seriously. I had this great talk with Burke today, and he convinced me that I'm wasting talent by not coming back, and that the best thing I can do is use my abilities in memory of…someone who can't," Izzie finishes sadly.

"That's really great news," reiterates Meredith encouragingly.

"Yeah, I guess it is. But tell me about you. What's new?"

This question takes Meredith by surprise, makes her feel like a deer in the headlights. Talking to Izzie has helped her forget her own problems, but now everything comes rushing back. To tell, or not to tell?

"Well, umm…" she finishes slowly.

Just then, the door bursts open to reveal George, sopping wet, with a pained expression on his face. "McDreamy?!?" he hisses.

Meredith sits stock-still, afraid of what will to come next. She'd forgotten that George wasn't home yet.

"McDreamy what?" demands Izzie.

"Downstairs…on the couch," he whispers, mindful of not waking the guest.

Izzie jumps off the bed, shoves George aside, and runs out to look downstairs. A moment later, she returns to the bedroom and slams the door behind her. "Meredith!" she cries as soon as she's sure the door is closed. "Seriously, Meredith? Seriously? _Seriously?? _What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? I didn't think you could get any more dark and twisty than you were already!"

"Shut up. I can explain."

"Okay, this is obviously going to take a while," sighs George. "I'm going to bed. Izzie, a summary in the morning?"

"You bet," she says with a smile. And with that he leaves the room, but fails to close the door all the way

Downstairs, Derek is awake. He'd just been dozing off when he was awoken by the sound of a door slamming. Now that he's up, he's cold, and he decides to go upstairs and see if he can get another blanket. He climbs the stairs quietly, and noticed that Meredith's room is dark. He approaches her door, pushes it open gently, and steps inside. It's too dark for him to tell whether she's sleeping on her bed or not in the room at all.

He freezes just inside the doorway when he hears footsteps approaching. He doesn't think he wants any of Meredith's roommates to know he's here. The steps are heavy, plodding—too heavy to be Meredith's, and probably to be Izzie's. He figures it must be George.

When the footsteps pass, he relaxes, and tries again to look around the room. It's still too dark to see anything. "Meredith?" he whispers. He assumes based on the lack of response that she's asleep, until he hears two female voices coming from next door—Izzie's room. It's warmer up here, so Derek figures he'll sit on the familiar armchair and wait for Meredith to come back. And if he happens to overhear the conversation, it won't be _entirely_ intentional. He smiles to himself.

Back in Izzie's room, the conversation between the girls is now in full swing. "Two months?" Izzie exclaims.

"Sssshh! Izzie! You'll wake him up. But yeah, she lived with Mark for two months. Talk about Satan."

"I thought she preferred Ruler of All That Is Evil," Izzie comments.

"Since when do we care about what Addison prefers?" Meredith retorts.

"Point. So he left her?"

"Yeah, looks that way," says Meredith half-sympathetically. "He won't go back to the trailer—even though I bet she'll be out of there and into a gorgeous hotel in no time. Now that she's not forced to stay there for him."

"So?" Izzie urges. Meredith looks at her quizzically. "So, now what? With Derek?" she elaborates. "And you?"

"I don't know, I just—I don't know. I mean, I didn't choose Finn. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to choose Derek for sure. He broke me."

The two share a mutually remorseful glance, and there is a moment of silence. "Well," Izzie begins cautiously. "Do you love him?"

They both look down, and there is a longer silence, interrupted only by a gulp from Meredith. She looks up hesitantly at Izzie. "I'm…I'm afraid to," she says at last. "I'm afraid to let myself go down that road again, because I know that once I take the tiniest step I'll never be able to stop, and I'll fall so hard. Just like last time."

"Forget your fear. Do you love him?" Izzie stares into Meredith's deep green eyes, full of fear and something else she recognizes—passion. "Meredith," she says again, encouraging her friend to answer.

"I think I might," Meredith answers simply, a single tear falling down her face.

Hearing this, Derek breathes a sigh of relief and love, allowing himself to fall back onto Meredith's deliciously soft and familiar bed. He doesn't care if she finds him here. She won't be mad at him, he knows, because she loves him. Might love him.

Now all he has to do is get her to tell him herself.

* * *

So that's it. A long(-ish) one. Please review and let me know what you thought! 


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